


Little Drummer Boy(s)

by carleton97



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-25
Updated: 2007-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carleton97/pseuds/carleton97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our finest gifts we bring...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Drummer Boy(s)

Bob really should have known better.

He _did_ know better, in fact. He's just... weak when it comes to his bandmates.

Yeah. That.

If it had just been Frank and Gerard - and even Mikey- he probably could have resisted, but somehow they had convinced Ray to join in their little sad-eyed parade of begging, so here he is. At Pete fucking Wentz's ChrisTideMukkah Winter Holiday extravaganza.

Feeling a little like a fifth wheel.

He's pretty sure not _everyone_ in the party had a date, but it sort of feels like it. Everyone else in his band has a wife and/or girlfriend for the evening. He's seen the various Panic! kids cuddled up with girls (except Brendon, but he looked pretty cozy with Ryan and his girlfriend and Bob is _never_ going to think about that again.). Pete and Ashlee are mingling their way through the party like good little hosts. Joe and his girl are laughing with half of Gym Class. Andy's talking to some hippie looking girl next to the vegan snack table. And Beckett must have found a babysitter since even he's here with his wife.

"This sucks." Patrick gracelessly flops down next to him on the couch and offers a plate of cookies. Bob flicks his eyes over him automatically - two years and his crush is still going strong, thanks - and thinks Patrick looks good enough to eat. He's dressed up a little, wearing a button down instead of a hoodie and his jeans are obviously new. He's wearing a Santa hat and is so absolutely adorable that Bob wishes Wentz hadn't been so believably psychotic when he warned Bob off during Warped '05. Not that he agrees that Patrick is a 'delicate flower of masculinity, Bryar, seriously,' but yeah. Then he notices Patrick's cheeks are bright pink and Bob's pretty sure he hasn't been sampling the "special" eggnog Pete has hiding in the kitchen.

Bob takes a gingerbread man painstakingly decorated in Clan fashions and bites it's head off. "What's up?"

The flush spreads its way down Patrick's cheeks to his neck and his ears are slowly starting to match the Santa hat. "I, ah, If you were looking for some place quiet, I would suggest anywhere but the blue guest room."

Bob makes a questioning face and works his way around the cookie, dismembering as he goes.

Patrick fidgets, avoiding his eyes and nibbling around the jam filling of a linzer torte cookie. Bob just waits, digging through the cookie pile until he finds the tiny, perfect rugelach. Patrick finishes his cookie and brushes his hands off on his jeans before glancing over at Bob. Their eyes catch and the blush is shining over the bridge of his nose now. "I don't think we'll be seeing Spencer and Jon or their girlfriends for a while."

"Shut the fuck up!" Bob feels his eyebrows shoot up and he's a rockstar, goddammit. He's been working in clubs or on tour since before the Panic! kids were in school, but jesus.

The look on his face must be something, though, because Patrick laughs, really laughs like Bob hasn't heard since they shared that apartment, and relaxes down into the cushions, leaning against Bob. "I know, right? I feel like a total slacker."

"What? You want to get in the middle of a Pete-and-Ashlee sandwich?" The look of complete horror on Patrick's face lets Bob know _exactly_ what he thinks of that idea and he splits the rugelach in two and offers half to Patrick in apology. "What then?"

"It makes me sound like a douche." Patrick shoves the cookie half in his mouth, his face flaring red again, before he shrugs and scratches at his head under the Santa hat. "It's just been awhile and, you know, _never_ with the hot, bisexual foursome."

Bob takes a moment to wonder about the improbability of Patrick not getting laid all the damn time before he smirks a little. "It was hot?"

"Oh, my god, dude. Like _burning_."

They both zone out for a minute thinking about that, but Bob shakes himself and decides _fuck it_ because he can totally take Wentz, it's Christmas, and he _wants_ Patrick. So he leans over, cups his jaw in one hand, and kisses him. Patrick is completely still for one fucking long moment before he fists his hand in Bob's collar and kisses back, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue into Bob's. It's hot and nasty and, okay, maybe Bob did sort of believe the whole delicate flower thing a little.

He must look weird or shell shocked or something when they stop kissing because Patrick immediately closes down in a completely subtle and completely obvious way. "So we're blaming that on the mistletoe, then?"

And no. Just. No. But - "What mistletoe?"

Patrick rolls his eyes and flicks the tassel of his hat where there's a small clump of leaves and berries tied to the end. Huh. Bob hadn't noticed that before. He reaches over and yanks the wilting greenery off the hat, tossing it over the edge of the couch. He sort of wants to throw the whole damn hat across the room, but would rather not have Patrick kneecap him. He pushes his fingers under Patrick's hair, squeezing the back of his neck before pulling him close again.

"Fuck the mistletoe."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal


End file.
